The Case of the Daring Decoy

Chapter Thirteen

Mason, Paul Drake, and Della Street were gathered in the lawyer’s office.

Mason said, “What’s new with Farrell, Paul?”

“Not a damned thing,” Drake said. “He’s keeping his nose so clean it shines.”

Mason frowned and said, “Now look, Paul, whoever did this job had to have a female accomplice. She was rather young, good-looking, with a sexy figure that she wasn’t averse to showing.

“This woman who left the hotel must have been the woman that Conway saw in Room 729. That’s the woman who held the gun on him, who really holds the key to the whole plot.

“Now, Farrell has put himself entirely in the power of this woman. She must be someone who’s infatuated with him. Farrell wouldn’t dare let her be where she could cool off as far as he’s concerned. He wouldn’t dare let her conscience start bothering her. He must be seeing her.”

“But he isn’t,” Drake said. “Farrell has been 100 per cent circumspect. He has hardly gone out socially since this case came up. Apparently, he was pretty much broken up by the death of Rose Calvert. He must have been pretty much attached to her.”

“Phooey!” Mason said. “He’s seeing this other woman somewhere... It must be one of the girls in his office.”

“We’ve got a line on every girl in his office,” Drake said. “I’ve got a pile of stuff two feet thick, Perry. I can tell you so much about those girls that it would frighten them if they knew we knew it. One of them is married and living with her husband. One of them is engaged. One of them is going steady. The other is a good-looking babe that Farrell has been out with once or twice, but she’s a girl who’s built for speed, narrow hips and a light chassis. There’s another one that Farrell probably had an affair with at one time, but she’s a tall babe, one of these long, willowy gals.

“Conway says this woman who emerged from the bedroom and then held the gun on him had a figure and was of average height... Don’t worry, if Farrell starts trying to keep any female accomplice in line, we’ll spot her.”

“He’ll have to do it when the case gets a little hotter,” Mason said.

“How’s it going, Perry?”

Mason said, “Well, I’m getting my theory worked into the case so unobtrusively that the prosecution doesn’t even know it’s there. Tomorrow I’ll spring it.”

“Your theory that the body was moved?”

“That’s right,” Mason said. “The body had lain on its left side. There had been just the start of that peculiar discoloration which is known as post-mortem lividity. Rigor mortis had probably set in rather soon. The right hand and right arm were doubled up and probably the left arm was sticking straight out. When the body was moved and placed on that bed, it was necessary for whoever did it to break the rigor mortis in the left shoulder so the arm would hang down somewhat naturally. If that left arm had been sticking out straight as a poker, it would have been a dead giveaway and anyone would have known that the body had been moved. With the body lying on the bed, it became necessary for that left arm to be hanging down. So rigor was broken at the shoulder.

“That Bob King is a miserable liar. He’s trying to bolster up the prosecution’s case, but he’s not doing a good, job of it.

“How are you coming along with your elevator girl, Paul?”

“Swell!” Drake said grinning. “That’s one of the best assignments I ever had. She’s a darned good scout, Perry, and is fun to be with, although at times I do wish she’d quit that everlasting gum chewing.”

“What have you found out from her?”

“I’ve found out all she knows. I can tell you enough stuff about the operation of the Redfern Hotel to make your hair curl. I can tell you things about the bell captains, about the clerks — and I can tell you this: The woman who went up to Room 729 definitely didn’t have any baggage, and that’s the reason she paid in advance.

“My elevator girl says that the bell captain was grumbling. He thought that the girl intended to muscle in on his racket, and he was determined that, if she started entertaining men in the room, he’d have her thrown out unless she decorated the mahogany with a cut.”

Mason paced the floor. “There’s something funny there, Paul. The position of the body on the bed was changed. Now, why would it be changed? Why did someone discharge a gun into the mattress in Room 728? The gun was pushed up against the mattress so it wouldn’t make any loud noise.

“The noise made by a contact wound when a gun is held up against a body or when the gun is pushed up against a mattress of that sort isn’t loud enough to attract attention. It’s not much louder than exploding a paper bag.”

“But why change the position of the body?” Drake asked. “Why juggle guns?”

“That,” Mason said, “is something we’re going to have to find out. Beginning tomorrow, I’m going to start getting some of this stuff in front of the jury, and then I’m going to needle the prosecution by asking it these questions. I’m going to start punching holes in the prosecution’s theory of the case.”

“Enough to get an acquittal for Conway?”

“I think so,” Mason said. “I’m not worried so much about that as I am that the public may take it as a Scotch verdict: guilty but not proven, and Conway will never be able to live it down.”

“He’s not the kind who would try very hard,” Drake said.

“In some ways he’s not a fighter,” Mason admitted. “He gets discouraged and throws in the sponge. He’ll fight like the devil on a business deal, but in a matter of this sort which affects his personal integrity, he feels completely crushed.

“You keep in touch with your elevator operator — what the devil’s her name?”

“Myrtle Lamar,” Drake said.

“She isn’t taking you seriously, is she?” Della Street asked. “You aren’t going to wind up breaking her heart, are you, Paul?”

“Not Myrtle!” Drake said, grinning. “Her heart is made of India rubber.”

“Those are the kinds that fool you,” Della Street said. “Probably beneath that cynical exterior, she’s extremely sensitive and— Don’t you go destroying her illusions, Paul Drake!”

“You can’t destroy them,” Drake said, “because she hasn’t got ’em. As a matter of fact, I get a kick out of being with her. She knows that I’m trying to pick her brains to find out something about the case that has eluded us so far, and she’s doing everything she can to help. She’s telling me every little thing she can think of about the operation of the hotel, about what happened that night and all that.

“My gosh! The gossip I can tell you about the things that go on in that hotel! And what a miserable little stooge this Bob King is! He’d do absolutely anything just to curry favor with the authorities.”

Again Mason started pacing the floor. “The trouble is we’re one woman short in this matter. That woman couldn’t have disappeared into thin air. She couldn’t have disappeared from Gifford Farrell’s life. He wouldn’t have let her.

“Tomorrow I’m going to start asking embarrassing questions. The prosecution isn’t accustomed to trying cases against lawyers who know anything about forensic medicine. The average lawyer considers it out of his line, and doesn’t bother to study up on it. In this case the medical testimony is of the greatest importance and has some peculiar angles.

“Moreover, we’re missing that woman and—”

Suddenly Mason stopped stock-still in his pacing, paused in the middle of a sentence.

Della Street looked up quickly. “What is it, Chief?”

Mason didn’t answer her question for a matter of two or three seconds, then he said slowly, “You know, Paul, in investigative work the worst thing you can do is to get a theory and then start trying to fit the facts to it. You should keep an open mind and reach your conclusion after the facts are all in.”

“Well,” Drake said, “what’s wrong?”

“Throughout this entire case,” Mason said, “I’ve let my thinking be influenced by Jerry Conway. He’s told me that this was a frame-up which was engineered by Gifford Farrell, that the line to his office had been tapped, and that he was suckered into this thing by Farrell.”

“Well, it stands to reason,” Drake said. “We know that someone cut in on the program Evangeline Farrell had mapped out for Conway. Mrs. Farrell was going to make certain that he wasn’t followed and then she was going to have him meet her where she could give him those papers.

“She was to call him at six-fifteen, but somebody beat her to the punch by a couple of minutes and—”

“And we’ve jumped to the conclusion that it was some accomplice of Giff Farrell!” Mason said.

“Well, why not? The whole setup, the substitution of guns, the burying of the fatal weapon — all that shows a diabolical ingenuity and—”

Mason said, “Paul, I’ve got an idea. Get your friend Myrtle Lamar and have her in court tomorrow. Sit there in court and have her listen. I want to have her beside you.”

“She has to work, Perry...”

“I’ll serve a subpoena on her as a witness for the defense,” Mason said. ‘‘Then she’ll have to be there. I’m beginning to get the nucleus of an idea, Paul.

“You say you’ve had trouble holding your man Inskip in line?”

“I told you we’d have trouble,” Drake said. “He keeps feeling that he’s withholding evidence that the police should have, and it bothers him. When you finally spring your idea and he’s called as a witness, the police will want to know why he didn’t give them the tip, and—”

“Let him give them the tip,” Mason said.

“What do you mean?”

“Get hold of Inskip,” Mason said. “Tell him to go to the police. Let him tell the police that his conscience is bothering him and he can’t hold out any longer, that he knows I have an ace in the hole, that we discovered this hole in the mattress in Room 728. Let him give them the bullet that we took from the mattress and let Redfield check that bullet with the Smith & Wesson gun Conway turned over to the police. The bullets will check.”

Drake said, “That would be awfully nice from Inskip’s viewpoint but it would leave you right out in the open, Perry. They would know exactly what you were trying to do.”

“That’s okay,” Mason said. “That suits my plans fine!”

“And then what’ll happen?”

“Then tomorrow,” Mason said, “the prosecution will feel they know what I’m leading up to and they’ll want time to combat it. I think this Dr. Garfield is a pretty fair sort of individual. I’ll start laying the foundation, and Hamilton Burger will go into a panic. He’ll start stalling for time.”

“But you’ve been the one who wanted to rush things along so you could have the case over before the stockholders’—”

“I know, I know,” Mason interrupted. “There’s still time. Go ring up Inskip. Tell him to go tell the police the whole story!”

“The whole story?” Drake said.

“Everything!” Mason said. “Then get your girl, Myrtle Lamar, and be in court tomorrow morning. I’m beginning to get the damnedest idea and I think it’s predicated on sound logic.”